Portrait of the World
by obsidiansoul
Summary: Why isn't Ginny Weasley talking? What's up with Harry's visions? What does the old painter deep in the environs of Hogwarts have to do with anything? Why does she keep hearing Tom? Why is my 'B' key sticking? Find out in POTW
1. Excerpt

Okay, starting a new story yes I am, yes I am. Just putting out an excerpt for now, this is in no way the first chapter or prologue, just a taste of what is to come. Tell me if you like it.  
  
_______________________________  
  
"Bite your tongue Malfoy," Ginny threatened, looking down her nose at him, a feat which should have been impossible, since he was two inches taller.  
  
"Or what?" He replied with an arched eyebrow and smirking at her in the most condescending, infuriating way.  
  
"I'll bite it for you," she practically growled, narrowing her eyes. He laughed a little at that, and too late she realized her mistake. She managed to fight back a blush and continued to glare at him menacingly.  
  
"Ooh, kinky Weasley, does your brother know you have fantasies about my tongue" Malfoy replied, still smirking.  
  
In a voice like a cup of sweet, fruity wine liberally laced with poison she replied," The only fantasies I have about you include, the dungeon, chains and me inflicting pain on you."  
  
"Sadism? No wonder you can't get a date," Malfoy shot back, his eyes filled with mocking false pity and concern.  
  
"Yeah, sadism, that's my style, yeah, Malfoy that's why I go fishing for Slytherin nasties and hang out in the dungeons," she replied rolling her eyes and unconsciously putting one hand on her hip.  
  
"And here I thought all this time you were stalking me," the mock concern replaced with a obviously feigned look of shock and hurt, if a look could be sarcastic, that was how she would describe the way he displayed emotions on his face.  
  
"If you didn't catch it, that last thing was sarcasm . . .moron," was her reply, slow and enunciated, as if she was speaking to a child.  
  
He dropped the act, his face was expressionless as he leaned down and stared her in the eye, shaking his head. "I'm the king of sarcasm, that was not sarcasm, that was a pitiful attempt at sarcasm . . .stalker."  
  
All she could think to say was, "Git."  
  
"Resorting to one-word comebacks are we, not in good form Weasley." He crossed his arms over his chest  
  
"Oh I apologize, not. How about we stop the un-witty banter, in your case at least, and get to the dueling part." She removed her hand from her hip, and brandished her wand at him.  
  
"Un-witty is not a word you cretin." There it was, that condescending smirk again.  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry . . .Hermione," she spit the name out as if it was something particularly disgusting, like lard.  
  
Malfoy arched and eyebrow triumphantly, "You do realize that in saying that you've also insulted Granger, not that I mind, I'm actually rather pleased that you've unintentionally insult-"  
  
"Oh like I give a fuck about Hermione. Malfoy, I never thought I'd ask this, but can we please start hexing each other now?" She knew she sounded whiny, but damn it, he was wasting her time.  
  
"No."  
  
Ginny threw her hands up in the air, "No, what do you mean no? I want to duel!"  
  
"And that's exactly why I won't do it now." He looked particularly smug.  
  
"Well you can't stop me from hexing you, you don't have to fight back."  
  
"But if it's not a duel you'll be in detention, you don't want to ruin your perfect Weasley record do you, Weasellete? Besides, you Conscience won't let you."  
  
"Maybe I do."  
  
He sighed theatrically, "Please specify you mongrel, you're wasting my time, and you're too poor to buy any more."  
  
"Like you can buy time . . . as I said, maybe I want to ruin my perfect record."  
  
"And attacking a student, a prefect no less, is just the way to do it." He told her, leaning over to look her directly in the eyes, as if trying to convey exactly what he thought of her, and it wasn't nice. At that precise moment, Ron walked into the hall.  
  
Well, that's it for now. Just so you know, Ginny has stopped speaking to everyone, the only person she speaks to is Malfoy, and that's to fight. 


	2. CHP 01 WWWTP?

Well, here I am, typing up the first chapter . . . (I love ellipses) Right, well, it's 5/2/04 right now so I'll try to get it done soon. I am however in the middle of the evil California standardized testing. GRRRR. Sorry that it starts with Harry but he is a BIG MAIN CHARACTER OF DOOM A GO GO. Besides, this fic isn't just about Ginny and Draco, there's other stuff going on . . . (3) Besides "Fire and Ice" (*cough*cliché*cough*) is not an Instant Ramen Relationship. Draco/Ginny is more making ice cream in Death Valley.  
  
Disclaimer : I don't own this stuff, however I have a foolproof plan for kidnapping Draco.  
  
Dedications : DaRk MorBid AnGeL – I heart you first reviewer!  
The "B" key on my keyboard – thanks for sticking you stupid ho. Warnings For the WHOLE story: Insanity  
Eating disorders  
Homosexuality  
Maybe S&M  
Swearing  
Other stuff. And on with the show!  
  
/~*~\  
  
Portrait of the World  
  
Chapter 01/??  
  
What's Wrong With This Picture?  
  
Harry's whole hand was a fierce aching knot of pain. He had thus far written a total of five reply letters. One each to Hermione, Lupin, Cho, Dumbledore and Mr. & Mrs. Weasley, and he still hadn't opened Ron's. /It's only the first bloody week of summer, it's not like I'm going to go poof or run off to frolic with the Dark Lord/  
  
Harry flexed his hands and reluctantly picked up Ron's letter. The envelope was heavy, a sign of pages of parchment to come. /That's odd. Ron isn't really one for the words./ Harry broke the seal, once again thankful that the wizarding world didn't use the same disgusting tasting lick-able strip to seal their mail as the muggle's did. The sticky thing was always a pain to open by hand, and Harry wasn't allowed to have such a precious commodity as one of the silver letter openers by the Dursleys. He turned the envelope upside down and shook out the pages, along with what looked to be a piece of chewing gum. He picked up the brightly blue and red colored gum and examined it further. WWW it read on the side, Harry knew better than to put one of the twins' inventions in his mouth. He put it aside and picked up the letter, reading Ron's familiar loopy, childish script  
  
Dear Harry,  
How are you mate? I'm pretty great. Fred got me this great new Chudley Cannons robe set, they turned me into a life-sized carrot for a few hours, but I think it was a one-time charm or something like that. I know it's only been a week but it's not much fun here without you around. Charlie and Bill are off working, I'm not even allowed to mention Percy's name in the house, the twins are always locked up in their room, and Ginny, well she's been acting odd this past week. All I did was tell her VERY nicely to shut the bloody hell up, and she hasn't spoken a bloody word since. Girls are so sensitive, absolutely nutty, the lot of 'em. She won't eat at dinner, but I suspect she's been sneaking down at night and grabbing whatever she can get. Fred and George left some canary creams out last night and there were feathers on the floor this morning. She's been locking herself in her room too, but I suspect this won't last long. She's just being a moody girl, I think it might be that time of the month. She won't last long not casting spells, well we're not supposed to anyways, but with all the magic floating around our house the ministry couldn't tell if Fred and George started cross breeding Indigo Footed Boarkitty's and the garden gnomes. It's only been a week and I almost want to go back, I bet Hermione's already done all her summer homework; I'm so bored even that is starting to sound good, homework I mean, not Hermione. Not that I think you were thinking that way, I wasn't thinking that way either. So, umm homework. I think this house is driving me crazy, not to mention whenever I say that I'm bored I get loaded with housework and knitting. The scary thing is I'm getting good at it, save me from knitting fuzzy pink sweaters with giant purple G's on them, it's not like Gin wears them anyways. She's a right little spitfire these days. Telling of our parents and all that, or at least she was, maybe she's realized that it's useless to yell at Molly Weasley and decided to take the silent approach. Two days ago I found her burning her old pink bedspread, the one with the little hearts and "I 3 Hairy Poter" on it, used to get a good laugh out of that. And mum didn't even yell at her! Keeps going on about how Ginny is going through a "tough time" and she needs her space, the bloody hypocrite. Mum's been trying to smother her with love and chocolate, she doesn't even make her clean. I tried being quiet yesterday, but all she did was say it was so nice of me to be quiet for a change, now go dust the attic. I found Charlie's magazine collection and a wicked chess set. Mum wants to enter me in a tournament, may be get some money if I place. If I do it I want to save the money up, try and buy something nice for Mum and Dad. Dad's been very busy at the office; it's all very hush hush though. I can't imagine what my dad with have anything to do with that really ugly, slimy guy that hates you, I don't think it's in his plans to charm a bunch of muggle devices to take over the wizarding world as of he HATES muggles. I hope Dumbledore can find some way to set up wards for you here, it would be great to have you and Hermione here with me for the summer. Well things are bound to pick up soon, we'll be heading to the house where the people who really like Fawkes hang out soon.  
  
Your Pal,  
Ron  
  
P.S. Ron and Fred sent the gum along, I wouldn't eat it, it makes you expand like chewing gum each time you breathe in, it was tested on a rat, believe me, you don't want to get popped.  
  
P.P.S. I'll be sending you a fuzzy sweater soon as I can, I know you love them.  
  
Harry rubbed his eyes, Ron's letters were always hard to read since they consisted of one long paragraph jammed onto as little paper as possible. He wished he could go see Ron now, but he was going to meet up with the whole Weasley clans at 12 Grimmauld Place, which was currently being cleaned up. Apparently during the winter a colony of Poisonwing Lacemoths had taken up the Black residence as their new home.  
  
Harry sighed in defeat and picked up his favorite quill, long since a muddy brown and missing the top. He dipped it into the last of his ink  
  
Dear Ron.  
  
I'm –  
  
*A burning pain shot through him, lancing out in all directions from the lightning scar on his forehead. The deep black ink on the page, doubled so that it read  
  
Dear Ron, Dear Ron,  
I'm  
I'm Then merged together and spread across his vision. He dimly felt his body slump off the chair and thump across the ground. He was in a dark room, lit by a bright green fire, making Voldemort's pale skin the color of old celery. Harry looked closer. He was smiling over the shoulder of a girl with red hair. His hands digging into her shoulder. Voldemort stood, gazing at her hair, entranced. "Gwenwyn . . ." Harry had never heard him sound so soft, nor so dangerous. His heart was thudding in his chest. Voldemort had little Ginny Weasley. What would he tell Ron? Voldemort's hands snaked out and wrapped around her neck, the long, sharp nails cutting into her skin and making her bleed. The small rivers of red seeped into her white, sensible nightgown. "Tom." She said, looking up at him. Voldemort's face twisted into a horrifying mask of rage. He twisted her head, snapping her neck, and threw her limp form to the floor. He spat on her body, the most human thing Harry had ever seen him do. Then he looked up slowly, and seemed to look right at Harry.*  
  
Harry sat up on the floor and immediately banged his head into the corner of the desk. He grabbed his head in pain, scrambling for his quilt and ink and the paper on which he began his letter to Ron. He scribbled quickly through the blinding pain, burning tears dripping down his fever-hot cheeks.  
  
Dear Ron,  
I'm so sorry. I'm coming as soon as I can. Hold on.  
H. Harry grabbed and jumped out the open window.  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
At the same moment the perfectly alive and well Gwenwyn Weasley was sitting at the breakfast table pushing around the unappetizing yellow scrambled eggs into the shape of a garden gnome. Well, alive actually, but not exactly well.  
  
"Aren't you hungry Gin?" Her mum asked. It was still a struggle for her not to reply. She shook her head. She wasn't hungry at all. The past week she'd woken up trying to stifle screams, the image of burning blue eyes, pale skin and shoe polish black hair etched into her eyes. Lately she couldn't stand to look in mirrors. There was a rim of ink blue around her pupil, a remnant of her first year, which seemed to be steadily engulfing her eyes. She could swear that her freckles were dimming, and her hair was definitely darker, now a more rusty blood closer, as if it was trying it's best to reach black. And yesterday, when she looked in the mirror, she could see Tom standing behind her, placing small butterfly kisses on her neck, bringing back buried memories. Memories of how, just a month after she had gotten the diary, Tom could make parts of himself corporeal, his lips, his fingers. His eyes in the mirror seemed to whisper /feed me i am so hungry hungry hungry for you Gwenwyn win winnie little pooh bear do you want some hunny?/ Mocking her with the old nickname.  
  
Her hand flexed around the fork. Across from her Ron was spreading honey and jam on top of what looked to be a ham and toast sandwich. She pulled a face as he poured more honey on. /do you want some hunny hunny sweet love darling ginger Ginny winnie?/ Ginny pushed herself away from the table abruptly, the chair on the floor making a sound like bodies being dragged down stone hall ways. She stood up, her eyes wide. Molly came around the table and gave her a hug. "Really honey," /hunny do you want some hunny?/ "I think Ron is sorry for what he's done now, why don't you tell us how you feel and have a cookie?" She offered up a plate of gingersnaps /ginger Ginny winnie?/. Ginny paled at the thought of food and shook her head emphatically. She shrugged off her mother's arms and took the creaky wooden stairs too at a time to her room. It was her room, and hers only, just one advantage of being the only girl in the family. The carpet must have been white once, but was now a shade somewhere between brown and gray, splotched with numerous potions all the color of the rainbow. There was no comforter on her bed, she had burned it in a fit of rage, it was a stupid thing to do really but she couldn't stand the thought of sleeping under something that said "I 3 Hairy Poter" any longer. Harry Potter had gotten her into this mess- or that was the reasoning she used while she was gleefully "incendio-ing" the pink frilly thing. It had been the only thing she had said this week.  
  
There was a mirror that Percy bought her on the wall, and before Ginny could sstop herself she walked over to it, entranced. She looked in the mirror, and peered deep inot her eyes. The golden amber color, an d a ring of ink blue. As she watched the blue spread out like ink on paper. Ginny gasped and took a step back, she was staring into Tom's reflection/I am you Ginny Winnie remember member? I poured me into you and you poured back and now we are the same thing you were water and I was wine and now we are one drink we are two hakves of one soul 1 part Gwenwyn 1 part Tom in the same pretty little cup/. Ginny shook her head quickly and opened her eyes again. Gwenwyn stared back at her. Ginny sighed. She knew what she saw wasn't real, just an echo. That was it, just a shadow of an echo of a memory. All she had to do was forget about him, she had to purge herself of him, starve him out of her body, write his thought and her's down on paper and burn them She would burn them and they would disappear. /the blood disappears Ginny Winnie Pooh, it washes out the blood washes out but it stays under your skin ginger darling/.  
  
She felt the sudden urge to write /write it all down darling pur you heart out you can tell Tom anything hunny hunny/, anything at all just to get it out of her system. She snatched a journal, thoroughly inspected by what seemed like half the wizarding world for curses, and her new quill, a bribe form her dad to start talking  
  
Oh god, I'm so insane. I feel like I'm being taken over. Like that little dark corner in my sol is expanding and soon all I'll have left against the darkness is a match. God I'm so melodramatic today? What happened to last weeks Gwenwyn? Or is this part of me always there, lurking, waiting to come out. Is some part of tom still there, some vestige of his soul hiding deep within me? I loved him. I loved him. He was so cruel. No he's not really there, and I'm not really seeing things. Just shadows. Like when my jacket on a chair at night looked like an evil villain. I'm still not talking, I can't. It was childish of me I guess to stop talking cause Ron told me to "Shut the bloody fucking hell up!" But now I'm afraid to talk because Tom might come out instead. Was I taken over because I'm already dark? The sorting hat said I could be in any house. I could've been in Slytherin. I know that Slytherin isn't purely evil, but the darkness is there, was it already noticeable in me? God what am I saying, I whine so much about nothing. About something that doesn't exist, there is no Tom, and I don't see him. I am a bright happy person. I laugh, I'm sarcastic, I'm smart, and I'm a strong witch. I am sane. I just want to use insane as an excuse. But I still can't talk.  
  
G.A.W  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Well now that that's done . . . Hmm, I did that all in one day, I don't have a beta and it takes me forever to just sit down and write. If you want to apply for the job I would love you. As I said Hairy Harry is important and I can't bring in Draco yet, not till school. This is just the beginning of summer. Well I'd be mighty glad if you reviewed, commented, criticized ad pointed out mistakes. Ooh Ooh and if you want to contribute to the story I might just use you idea. I'm also working on some art, I have a kinda sorta Gin and Tonic pic I drew, if you want to see it email me. No worries though "Fire & Ice" shippers this in Gwenwyn(Ginny)/Draco not Gin/Tom. What else can I say, sorry about making her a little loopy and non-eating if this stuff offends you, well too bad. 


End file.
